Poetical WorksBy: Charles Churchill (1731-1764)

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In Churchill we find a signal specimen of a considerable class of
writers, concerning whom Goldsmith's words are true

"Who, born for the universe, narrow'd their mind,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind."

Possessed of powers and natural endowments which might have made him,
under favourable circumstances, a poet, a hero, a man, and a saint, he
became, partly through his own fault, and partly through the force of
destiny, a satirist, an unfortunate politician, a profligate, died early;
and we must approach his corpse, as men do those of Burns and Byron, with
sorrow, wonder, admiration, and blame, blended into one strange, complex,
and yet not unnatural emotion. Like them, his life was short and
unhappy his career triumphant, yet checquered his powers
uncultivated his passions unchecked his poetry only a partial discovery
of his genius his end sudden and melancholy and his reputation, and
future place in the history of letters, hitherto somewhat uncertain. And
yet, like them, his very faults and errors, both as a man and a poet,
have acted, with many, as nails, fastening to a "sure place" his
reputation and the effect of his genius.

Charles Churchill was born in Vine Street, Westminster, in February 1731.
He was the eldest son of the Rev. Charles Churchill, a rector in Essex,
as well as a curate, and lecturer of St John the Evangelist, Westminster.
As to the attainments of the poet's father, we know only that he was
qualified to superintend the studies of the son, during the intervals of
public tuition. At eight years of age, he was sent to Westminster School,
and placed under the care of Dr Nichols and Dr Pierson Lloyd, where his
proficiency in classical lore was by no means remarkable; nor did he give
any promise of the brilliance which afterwards distinguished his genius.
At fifteen, he stood as candidate for admission to the foundation at
Westminster, and carried it triumphantly. Shortly after, having by some
misdemeanour displeased the masters, he was compelled to compose, and
recite in the school room, a poetical declamation in Latin, by way of
penance. This he accomplished in a masterly manner to the astonishment
of his masters, and the delight of his school fellows some of whom
became afterwards distinguished men. We can fancy the scene at the day of
the recitation the grave and big wigged schoolmasters looking grimly
on their aspect, however, becoming softer and brighter, as one large
hexameter rolls out after another the strong, awkward, ugly boy,
unblushingly pouring forth his energetic lines cheered by the sight of
the relaxing gravity of his teachers' looks while around, you see the
bashful tremulous figure of poor Cowper, the small thin shape and bright
eye of Warren Hastings, and the waggish countenance of Colman all
eagerly watching the reciter and all, at last, distended and brightened
with joy at his signal triumph.

At the age of eighteen, he stood for a fellowship in Merton College, but
without success being defeated by older candidates. Shortly after, he
applied for matriculation at the University of Oxford, but is SAID to
have been rejected at his examination, in which, instead of answering the
questions proposed, he broke out into satirical reflections on the
abilities of his judges. From Oxford he repaired to Cambridge, where he
was admitted into Trinity College. Here, however, his stay was very
short, he was probably repelled by the chevaux de frise of the
mathematics; and in a few weeks he returned to London, disgusted at both
universities, shaking their dust off his feet, and, perhaps, vowing
vengeance against them a vow which he has kept in his poetry. In his
"Ghost," for instance, he thus ridiculed those forms of admission

"Which Balaam's ass
As well as Balaam's self might pass,
And with his master take degrees,
Could he contrive to pay the fees... Continue reading book >>